The Donut Shop ✔️

'I' Stands for 'Infidel'

Oliver had managed to convince Ethan to lift his head from his intense research and loathing of Red to go to the local plaza together to buy some paint to complete the banner for the student council's dance in a few weeks. 

Within minutes of arriving at the crafts store, however, Oliver tugged Ethan, who was enveloped in thoughts of how Red had managed to kill Mrs. Heifenmeir, behind one of the glue displays and put a finger over his lips, motioning toward another section of the store, where Mara was located, talking it up with someone out of sight.

They knew that Mara worked at this particular store, and they were hoping to use her employee discount. In truth, that was the reason Oliver had suggested coming to this craft store.

Mara talked animatedly and looked bright and cheery, almost as if the sun itself was shining down on her, and Ethan's eyes narrowed as he glanced at Oliver.

"Who is she talking to?" 

Before he had a chance to answer, Mara disappeared behind the shelf in which the person she was speaking to was concealed away. Sharing a wary glance with Oliver, Ethan motioned for the boy to follow him as he crept over to the next shelf. 

Tip-toeing as best as he could with sneakers that sounded like farting mice on the tile, Ethan winced with every squeak from his shoes as he neared the edge of the shelf and peeked over into the next aisle, where Mara was supposed to be. His eyes widened as he turned back to Oliver.

"Oh my God," he whispered, and Oliver, confused, also took a gander at the aisle and had the same reaction.

There, in the center of the aisle, was Mara's back facing them, and a full head of blonde hair before her. It appeared that their heads, possibly their lips, were touching. 

Tweed's signature tweed pants stood out like a bright beacon amongst the wooden, unpainted birdhouses. 

Stifling any surprise, Oliver dragged Ethan out of the aisle, and they practically ran out of the store, hopping into his mom's minivan that she let him borrow on the weekends. They both sat, stunned, in silence for a few moments until Ethar burst out laughing, Oliver followed suit with a nervous one.

It felt good to laugh, Ethan thought as he admired the boy's smile beside him. It seemed frivolous and free to be able to joke with someone about something so innocent like this. Although he hadn't voiced his thoughts on Mrs. Heifenmeir's death to anyone, it had consumed his mind for the past few days. 

"That explains the blushing from the evening we found out... yeah," Ethan finished, his humor fading from his face as he remembered Mrs. Heifenmeir, finding out she was dead and seeing her limp body on the stretcher. 

"Hey," Oliver beckoned him to lift his head, and reluctantly, Ethan glanced at him. His warm amber eyes were fixed on Ethan's face, and he felt his cheeks grow tomato red as Oliver's hand wandered up to his cheek.

Oliver's fingers were slightly chilled, but otherwise warm, as he touched Ethan, who must have been a strawberry by now. As Oliver's face moved closer to his, Ethan began to panic. What was he doing? What if someone caught him?

With a start, Ethan bolted out of the seat, his hand yanking the door handle, and he fell out of the car. He cleared his throat and attempted to appear casual while scrambling to his feet. 

"Sorry," Oliver apologized, refusing to look at Ethan, but he could tell that the boy's face was also red, possibly more so than his own. Ethan dusted off his black jeans and hoodie and cleared his throat, sitting in the passenger's seat once more.

"So... that, huh?" Oliver said with a grimace, and Ethan ducked his head into his hoodie as if he was hiding from his embarrassment. Unfortunately, his shame followed him into the hoodie as well.